


All of You, All of Me (Intertwined)

by I_Am_Titanium



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, First Time, I stopped tagging my works as pwp a long time ago cause i SUCK at writing one, Mildly Dubious Consent, Porn with Feelings, Song fic, Thanedd Coup, see more in notes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-12 03:54:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29004072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Am_Titanium/pseuds/I_Am_Titanium
Summary: "I’m not your enemy here, Philippa.""We’re not there yet, little one.""In which case, Your Highness then.""Very funny." Philippa snorted, "I’m leaving now."orWhat happened before the infamous Thenedd Coup...
Relationships: Philippa Eilhart/Triss Merigold
Kudos: 18





	All of You, All of Me (Intertwined)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ilene85](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ilene85/gifts).



> Yes it's a song fic inspired by Taylor Swift's Daylight. Oops I did it again
> 
> Okay, I tagged it as dubious consent because as someone who strongly believes in explicit consent, what I wrote is far from it. I want to show how their dynamics work, how they can read each other's mind, be it literal or not, and in sync with it. Don't try it at home with your partner. I'm serious.
> 
> Other than that, enjoy my anxiety binge writing!

"Everyone knows who you’re assigned to apprehend? Good. Now go back to your chambers, but do it discreetly and don’t you all bloody dare go to sleep. We will strike at the first light of dawn and rid our beloved kingdoms of despicable rats once and for all." In spite of her commend to be quiet, Philippa slammed her fist on the ancient oak table in the meeting room, the authority in her words unmistakable, "the troops of Redania are gathering at Loxia as we speak with dimeritium cuffs and patriotic hearts, and if anyone screws this up for me, for us, for the northern realms, nowhere in the continent would be safe enough for you, understand?"

_So Philippa, the biggest shot and arsehole in the room,_ Triss commented silently from the corner of the table, trying anxiously (and hopefully unnoticeably) to focus her mind on anything but the humiliating encounter earlier which had no doubt instantly become the laughingstock of everyone present at the banquet. She could still hear Sabrina’s malicious snickers stuck to the back of her skull like the deafening evening bell of Aretuza she was still too young to completely forget about. She shouldn’t be too obsessed with it, really. It would be so immature, something she had been regrettably needing to prove not to be since this little group of "patriots" first gathering, being the youngest member of the said group. Well, youngest except her darling colleague and maybe (a huuuuuge maybe) friend Keira Metz of Carrera over there, but despite the blonde’s short temper or maybe because of it, she acted like she knew exactly what she was doing all the time, a task turned out to be harder for Triss.

Oh, what was she thinking? She really needed to focus on the big pictures. The reason, the true reason of the gathering, Thenedd banquet or the one she was having. With Nilfgaard sat coveting across the Pontar River, it was imperative to purge any and all moles from the already wavering realms on the brinks of total wars. Thanks to Philippa, Dijkstra and their army of spies, now they have a specific lists of degenerates who had been taking dirty florens. Compared to a random traitor of north, renegade mages were a thousand times more dangerous, not to mention some of them were even the most prominent court advisor. Gods, merely thought of it made Triss sick. As revolting and misoginistic as Fercart went, she would never expect him to be a man of treason. Sure, he may go around saying disrespecting shit sometimes— _all the time—_ and deck with way too much jewelry to show off his wealth… _Oh wait, so that’s where the money’s from…_

But they would put an end to all of it. _She_ would.

Drowning in her thoughts, she missed the part where Philippa dismissed the meeting and before she knew it, she was left alone in the room with the older woman, who exhaled a long sigh and leaned forward to support her weight with palms pressed on the tabletop, the lapis lazuli ring on one of her slender and splayed out fingers reflecting the surrounding candle lights. She looked way worse than last time Triss had seen her, and that was in the middle of a major war that would settle the fate of the north. There were heavy shadows underneath her bloodshot onyx eyes, and her dark red lipstick no longer had the glow and threatening aura it brought to her angular face like it did back in the banquet. And even with mages’ ability to maintain age and thus their gorgeous looks, Triss could have sworn Philippa had lost a few pounds in her expensive dress.

"Uhh… Lady Eilhart?" Triss treaded carefully, not sure if she was in the position to say what she was about to say, "maybe you should get some rest for yourself. You look drained."

She never knew Phillipa well. The things she did know about her were mostly from Yennefer’s mouth, which were always nasty from the strange rivalry Triss also never knew the reason for between them. Truth be told, she didn’t completely trust Yennefer’s information on someone she had strong emotions for, and it turned out Triss was right to do so. Yes, Philippa Eilhart was arrogant, self-centered, manipulative, and probably a little perverted, according to the rumors of all those women coming in and out of Montecalvo, but she was also talented and resourceful with a clear head and an iron fist when it came to politics. She may not have the most charming personality, but she sure was a damn good sorceress, and Triss respected that. Being the leader of this coup certainly would be under a lot of pressure, and Philippa did not deserve that, for she was doing something good for their kingdoms.

Philippa snapped her head up, acknowledging her existence for the first time. For an instant, a silver of guilt flashed across her face, as if she had caught her doing something reprehensible. She took in a deep breath again, and went straight to ignoring her. "Why are you still here?" she asked coldly, "what do you think you’re doing?"

Triss frowned, a little upset that her good will was received poorly, although she should have guessed. It was like they were holding a stare contest from the opposite sides of the oaken table, and no one was going to back down any minute soon. She could feel the magical flows in the air, how they were waging an invisible war of minds, probing and interrogating, trying to detect each other’s thoughts.

Finally and unsurprisingly, Triss was the one to break the silence first. "I just want to check if you’re okay," she chose her wording carefully, "it was a lot, planning everything out. It would be nice to know you’re not alone in this."

"And why would you do such a thing?" It might be her imagination, but Philippa’s tense shoulders relaxed a little. Her words, however, were as venomous as ever. For whatever it was worth, they seemed to be having a conversation instead of being at each other’s throat like she and Yennefer probably did all the time.

"Because we’re all in this together and you’re the one who told us to stay at the top of our game?" Triss took a few steps closer. Though a voice in her head warned her that she may be vaporized for witnessing the less invincible side of Philippa, she felt the urge to be closer to comfort.

Philippa let out a humorless laugh and straightened up, her hands on her hips, her lips curled with distain. "Please tell me at least you have an agenda to achieve here, Triss Merigold. Otherwise I’d be very, very disappointed. Or maybe I should cut you some slacks like the new Rectoress of your generation would? Have you come prepared for anything? Because our enemies certainly would have."

An unnamed irritation washed through her. She was not a novice anymore, not for a long time. "I’m not your enemy here, Philippa."

"We’re not there yet, little one."

"In which case, Your Highness then."

"Very funny." Philippa snorted, "I’m leaving now."

"Wait!" Triss instantly reached out. She couldn’t grab any of Philippa at the distance but the gesture said enough. She didn’t even know why she was insisting on her staying when she really didn’t have an "agenda" to be alone in the same room with Philippa.

"Then what? You’re feeling sorry for me?" She snorted again, clearly finally able to break her mental ward and reach inside. Triss reproached herself silently for that. "You need to stop with your god complex, Merigold. Flying around playing innocent virgin won’t gain you anything. Yes, I’m talking about the witcher. Anyone would take one look at you back in the ballroom and feel immensely sorry for you within moments. Now, why don’t _you_ forget about him and take a nap instead? You certainly look like you’re the one needing it."

More frustration surfacing, Triss pounced without thinking. Before anyone knew, Philippa was slammed on the wall, her wrists held against the chilly stone by imbued magic by her side. Triss was all over her with her body and her magic, her entire being roaring like a fire.

"You need to stop all this." she spat the sentence word by word, "I’m not the one with god complex and I’m certainly not an innocent virgin. Allow me to demonstrate. Or don’t allow it. Won't make a difference anyway."

"Because you won’t take no for an answer?" Philippa scoffed, awfully comfortable as someone who had lost control of the situation, or so Triss thought. Philippa was also, Triss noticed, awfully meek. Or maybe she just wanted to watch how things play out? Either way, she stayed where she was without much of a fuss, which actually made Triss ashamed to do anything.

"No… well, yes!" It took some effort for Triss to hold back the "I don’t know" at the end at the last second, but she did it. Although judging by the smirk on Philippa’s insanely pretty face, the unsaid words might as well be announced aloud, "believe it or not, I do know how to bed a woman!"

That was so _not_ her plan. She had absolutely _zero_ idea what she was doing. She was distracted a bit in a meeting and the next thing she knew she had one of the most powerful mages in the Continent at her mercy (kind of) in a rape-like situation. So yes, she may have bedded _one_ woman in her short decades of life after gradually losing interest and energy to deal with all those messy things that came with men, but that did _not_ mean she would be mentally prepared to sleep with Philippa Eilhart, the infamous ladykiller for girls and wives alike. Not to mention the disapproving looks and lectures she was 100% sure she would get from her best friend and that was the last thing she needed when they were not exactly on best of terms right now.

But it was _really_ hard to back down when Philippa was looking at her with expectance in her beautiful, beautiful eyes under long lashes and _"well what are you waiting for then"_ with her now different voice, a seductive one.

Triss released her hold on Philippa, who remained in her spot, and came closer. She was still a bit hesitant when she pressed her lips on Philippa’s, warm and soft and tender and sweet, and her gestures were mirrored in equal gentleness with grazing and feather-light contacts, which suddenly angered Triss. She was mocking her. Neither of them could have predicted this, yet Philippa still acted like she had every goddamn thing under her whim.

_It is gratuitous to act omnipotent all the time, little one._ She heard a taunting voice resonate in the back of her skull. Triss pulled back to properly look the polymorphist in her eyes of a bird of prey. _There is nothing shameful about not being versed in the art of pleasure, especially in a delicate branch._

"Stop," Triss managed to behave as calmly as possible, but she could feel her own lips tremble against hers in such a close distance, "stop reading my mind, stop stealing it, stop… with whatever you’re doing! I’m not here to play your game within a game or anything. I’m here to—"

"To what, gravel at a man whose heart and even interest you do not have in the palm of your hand, to make more foolish choices to savage the ones you have conjured, to ease your guilty mind off whatever uncrossed debt you owe, to shift focus and forget, only for a few precious moments?

"What do you think you’re doing, Triss Merigold?"

The callout cut more than Triss have thought, but she found her unable to deny any of it, even to herself. Why should her, anyway? There wasn’t any point in doing so. Philippa the notorious manipulator was not known for being wrong, anyway, when her biggest weapon was information. So there was only one question left, really.

As in, _how terribly would she regret it?_

That was apparently for the next morning because Triss had thought none of it when she surged forward again, this time to gnaw and tear at Philippa’s crimson lips with reinvigorated fierceness not unlike a newborn lion cub until she tasted fresh copper in her mouth. The pain seemed to infuriate Philippa when all of the sudden Triss became the one pinned to the rocky wall, clawing at a tight grip on her neck helplessly as Philippa licked her bloodstained lips menacingly, the other hand a glowing fist just inches away from her freckled cheek.

"Stay _still,"_ she growled, "if you truly want this so badly, we are doing it on my terms, not yours."

Triss opened her mouth struggling to speak, but she found her ability to talk out of one of those fancy windows with intricate mosaic patterns she had known so well from her teenage time, from her cut off air flow or the way Philippa towering over her with all her power and glory within the blink of an eye. Either way, she was frozen on spot. While she still had trouble intaking breaths, she ceased the intention to snap those elegant fingers in her panic. Philippa did not fully let go until black spots began to pour at the edge of Triss’ vision and clouding. She left Triss bending over and coughing painfully as she dragged a nearby meeting chair along the ground with a loud screeching noise, startling the younger woman from her haze.

"Come over," Philippa ordered, sitting down. With the way she lay back in leisure, the fabric of her dress pooling on the seat and spilling over the edge, she looked nothing short of a real royalty. _"Now,"_ she added impatiently when Triss, still teary-eyed, was too frightened to promptly react.

Triss was all too keen to obey and rushed to her side in a heartbeat. Before Philippa could bark out her next command, she kneeled down on the expensive and very fluffy rug by her feet, silently snickering at Philippa’s shocked look when she looked up with what Yennefer would call "an virginal-whorish mask", something she knew for sure Philippa would be weak for.

"What can I do for you, Your Excellency?" Triss asked innocently, slipping a hand under the hem of Philippa’s scarlet dress, feeling cool olive skin. She was not wearing stockings, which surprised Triss for a short while before she remembered that Philippa seemed to have a dislike against garment she may deem too "womanly". She could feel a tiniest shiver, and it traveled up her spine simultaneously.

"You—" Philippa gritted her teeth together, but for an extremely scarce moment, she was at a loss for words. Instead, she inhaled deeply again and grasp a handful of fiery locks. To no one’s surprise, the pain spurred Triss on as her hand traveled upward to bundle the dress hem trimmed with beautiful thick fur of some kind of endangered species she couldn’t care less about onto even more beautiful thighs, revealing expensive undergarments, black and lacy, where strands of dark hair peeking out from.

"Who would have thought," Triss tsked, making sure to look up from under her long lashes deliberately, " that the esteemed Lady Eilhart would wear such inappropriate clothing to such a formal event, not to mention the activities we have planned for—"

She was cut off abruptly with an intense silencing spell, so forceful that it sent her tumbling backward and fell on her back. Philippa, now standing up with flares in her eyes and magick aura surrounding her presence, sprung forward to grabbed Triss by the necklace and pulled toward her with equal brutality.

"Have you lost your mind?!" She hissed to Triss’ face, "do you have any idea how fast words travel between those walls, and how many ears behind them? Did the academy teach you nothing?"

_I—_

"You know nothing. You are merely a child and take politics for some kind of insignificant game. Do you really know what we are trying to achieve here, its urgency and its true purpose?"

_And you do?_ Triss wanted to scoff in her face. Spat on it, even, had she been able to do so without the restriction on her throat. Instead she kept her mouth shut but her chin defiantly up, which proved to be a mistake.

Suddenly, she was thrown unceremoniously onto the large oaken table with her face down, her eyes watering again and dripping down her face with another stream of warmth from her nose. Before she could support herself up with her elbows, she was pinned down again with a rough hand on the back of her neck, her wet cheeks pressed on the tabletop so hard she was sure the grains would be etched onto her face as well. Philippa was on her, scarlet dress draped over blue and pale green one, her warm bosom grinding through the silky fabric, one hand on her neck, the other holding an invisible magical rein binding her wrist together.

"Now, how about _we_ play a game, one that is safer and easier to understand for you, since you seem to pride yourself on being a player?" Philippa’s breaths were hot and wet right next to her ear, lips, having lost most of their gloss from their earlier exchange, grazing against the earlobe. Triss felt the hand leaving her neck and her dress hiked up instead as a gust of nightly breeze hit her exposed thighs, "would you mind staying still and quiet, Triss Merigold? You’d be a naughty girl otherwise and I’d be so, so cross with you."

No, Triss did not mind at all. But as she still suffered from the after-effect of the silencing spell, she made a strangled noise to show a semblance of consent. Even with all those torches lit around them and the efforts, Triss still trembled at the caress she received between her legs. Philippa was truly a renowned women pleaser as she dragged her digits along the silts and Triss’ mind could still go blank with a layer of clothe between them.

"Who would have _really_ thought," Philippa drawled her every word viciously, never stopping her movement. She had released her bind to watch Triss claw at the wooden surface helplessly with content, "that King Foltest’s proud advisor could drip so much all over the ground of her alma mater with just a little kissing and pain?"

Triss wanted to scream at her, to tell her not to make such a light joke about her position, not to mention they should have been colleagues and allies on the same boat, both being a royal advisor, but she really could not find any word to protest nor complain and words would fail her anyway since Philippa was telling nothing but truth. She could not remember when was the last time she was touched in this way, not with a man of course, but right now, were she allowed to scream at the woman smiling wickedly, she would have only begged her not to stop.

"Nothing? Where’s your smart mouth now?" Philippa yanked roughly on her drenched underpants to drag it down her legs and gave a light swat. Triss whimpered and pressed her forehead harder onto the wood as she tried to squeeze her thighs together.

She heard a disapproving _tsk. Bad girl._

"Bad girl." Philippa repeated, much close now. Triss could feel rather than hear these two words with Philippa leaning forward and towering over her, lips grazing the back of her neck. She was supporting herself with a palm on the desk and caressing the inside of completely soaked thighs with another, front pressed onto her back. Her presence was so strong like this. There was nowhere to hide nor escape. Triss inhaled a ragged breath through her nose, more turned on than she cared to admit.

"Do I have to tie you up like an animal again, Triss? Or maybe a cloth gag for your leftover dignity? How badly do you want this, really? Have you been distracted this entire time? Oh, no! What could possibly be done to fix that, I wonder."

When Triss turned her head to press her right cheek on the oaken top, she was met with onyx eyes with faux innocent as Philippa crooked her head like a curious bird to sneer at her despair. Annoyance rose in her throat like bile as Triss glared at her through already teary eyes, intending on spiting but lack the self-control to even open her mouth without moaning.

_Enjoying the sound of your voice, aren’t you._

"Why, yes, I very much am." Philippa drawled as she straightened up, finally, _finally_ properly touching Triss between the lips. Her fingers slid over slick opening and up, up, inch by inch, but not there, never there.

"I mean… since one of your eager mouth is no longer working, I might as well fill in the role." She concluded and, without warning, thrust two fingers in. Triss gasped loudly, but she managed to only leak out a splinter of moaning. Not because she wanted to be a good girl (well, come to think of it, it certainly wouldn’t hurt), more like… the silver of her sanity left forbade her from tarnishing her reputation in such a humiliating way in case someone outside the hall picked up any noise and decided to check up the room, "…along with a few other places as well, it would seem."

_Fuck you._

"Well, you aren’t the one doing it right now, so…" There was a twist in the angle of her wrist, almost deliberate. Before that, Triss didn’t know she could try harder to sink further into the desktop like it was made of quicksand, but she actually could. Right now her biggest win was keeping quiet, though she was quickly losing this battle as well. A snake made of fire was coiling tight in her abdomen and the lightest pressure could set it snarling as it pounced.

She couldn’t help her loud and obscene moan as Philippa casually added a third finger, thumb circling dangerously close to the point she wanted the most. The candlelights seemed to tremble in laughters, mocking her pathetic state. The conscious part of her mind wondered how she would look to any unfortunate spirit that stumbled into this room (for she probably wouldn’t leave any eye witnesses), mouth agape and drooling, pupils dilated and out of focus, ruining the beautiful carpet of her erstwhile academy, completely succumbing to the will of the woman who was only a coup leader to her in less than five minutes ago.

How unexpected this already uneventful evening could turn out to be.

(Apparently Geralt was the furthest thing from her mind now.)

She heard a loud snort as the fingers plunged harder into her as if in retaliation. Triss yelped, feeling nails digging into the flesh of her hips. She imagined angry little half-mooned bruises when she would look into a mirror later to marvel at her devastated predicament, and reluctantly found out she would like it a lot.

"Don’t ever compare me to a man." This came out more like a growl, like the warning grumble of a predator on attack, and a hand was in her hair pulling _hard_. There was venom behind each hissed word, a hatred toward something she became a part of in unwariness. She thought of all the rumors about women coming and leaving her luxurious castle, how it may seem so empty with only her and her servants when no one really stayed.

"Don’t patronize me, either. I have no need for your pity. I am fully aware of all the rumors of my personal life same as of yours, Triss Merigold. From what I heard of you? I expected you to understand more than others."

_Stop reading my mind._

"Stop being so damn obvious."

_I’m sorry, really. I didn't mean it like that. I…_

Triss didn’t have a better apology beside that, so she closed her eyes, expecting fiercer onslaughts.

It didn’t come. Neither did she, so close, hanging at the edge of the precipice.

The fingers withdrew as abruptly as they entered moments ago. Triss grunted when they left her body, a bit sore from being worked so open. When she was sure they were not returning, she got up on her own and tried to compose herself as best as she could. When she finally turned around, unable to bear further in the silence, she was met with sight of lips in furious thin lines and pretty eyebrows pinched together. Philippa looks menacing like that, as if deciding whether she should allow her game a painless death. She had her hands on her hips, and the glisten on her fingers should have distracted Triss from her next words, but they didn’t.

Somehow she could feel Philippa’s well hidden pain under her delicate facade, the same tingle in her heart as the one between her legs right now. Maybe Philippa left her telepathic channel too open when she probed into Triss’ mind, or maybe it was just Triss’ empathy for she was put into the exact situation as her did before even when that was far from what Triss was insulating. Philippa was right about her being able to understand more than anyone else when she used to be the same thing for other women, just an intermission and a bed warmer, a plaything to pass time before they inevitably return to men’s muscular arms for those were the ones who could provide stability and the sense of safety, despite her being literally one of the most powerful figures across the land of silver lilies. As Philippa lived longer and was much more experience in this field, she must have been subjected to empty promises and broken hearts more often than Triss could imagine.

The only thing was that, Triss would not be such a woman to her.

"How can you be certain?" Philippa let out a humorless laugh, her eyes sharp and cutting, "no, a better question, why do you care? I am no one but a mere temporary ally to you, or even less, for I was never informed of your true purpose. No one was, and it was fine by me, since I only seek the result. How am I supposed to know where your heart truly lies?"

Once again, Triss had no words.

So she took a step closer to take Philippa by one hand, who did not seem surprised at all until she kissed the palm of her hand before pressing it to her temple. She took her other hand and gently guided her under her dress toward the apex of her legs.

Philippa remained expressionless. She always did.

"Read my mind, then." Triss implored, nudging the hand between her thighs to move. When it did in hesitance, Triss allowed herself the tiniest moan as her memory unfolded.

"Do you have any idea how many times I have touched myself and thought of you?"

It wasn’t the whole truth, but it wasn’t a lie, either. Triss was still a novice when Philippa once dropped by Aretuza to do a guest lecture on polymorphism, and she had been a memorable woman hard even back then. She transformed into an owl to shoot for the dome and dived down to land directly on Triss’ desk. There was something in the grey owl’s amber eyes that struck her, luring her in as always. She was enchanted in a way no spells had ever done to her. And yes, later that evening she did masturbate to the image of Philippa doing the same thing under the cover while her roommate was cracking for their test.

Gods, the memory was so vivid, almost as if it only happened yesterday.

There was a twitch at the corner of Philippa’s lips as she took in the intensity of a youthful crush, but she remained silent while her ministration didn’t stop. Delicately she pushed in one fingers, quickly two, her vagina still warm and slick and open. The angle was awkward, yet Triss moaned and spilled for her nonetheless. She helplessly grabbed onto the collar of Philippa’s dress to pull her into a heated kiss, moaning into her mouth when it seemed to affect Philippa too as she swiftly sped up seconds after she was in.

"Is it how you imagine me touching you?" She huffed into Triss’ ear, hot and tickling. Her voice was slightly different now, breathier from sharing the same sensation of masturbation from a piece of long lost memory.

"Please." Triss begged. She didn’t know what she was begging for, but it seemed the right thing to say. She was living in that moment again, the moment of awe and aspiration, of becoming the same powerful woman when she grew up.

Now she was standing with the woman that took her onto this path, that fought abreast her toward the same goal, and she felt it was exactly where she belonged.

By her side, in more ways than she had fantasized.

"Please." She begged again, more urgent this time. Philippa was deft with her fingers, crooking and turning in all the right way, and there was only so long she could hold on without the spring within her snapped.

The touches were gone yet again. Triss widened her teary eyes in accusation as Philippa licked languidly at her fingers, as smug as a cat savoring her kill.

"Can’t risk night guards wandering in and find our bright pupil in such a state." She smirked in lieu of an apology she would never give out, "my chamber. Shall we find out just how much you have been pining for it?"

Triss knew her answer as soon as she saw the mirth in those onyx eyes.

"Yes, ma’am." She said.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos always appreciated!


End file.
